


Lucifer Gets Revenge

by katya1828



Series: Domestic Discipline Goes to the Devil [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, BDSM, Bisexual Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Blood Kink, Bondage and Discipline, Bottom Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, F/M, Het and Slash, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Whump, M/M, Marcus Pierce Being an Asshole, Masochism, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Pansexual Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Slash, Sub Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), dom mazikeen, top mazikeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 06:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katya1828/pseuds/katya1828
Summary: Yup, what it says in the title. Lucifer invites Maze to help him take appropriate vengeance on Pierce for spanking him senseless, and things get kinky and a bit angsty.Set season 3, post the Piercifer marriage ep. and my two previous fics in this series. You can probably get the gist if you haven’t read those and are just here for the kink. On the flip side, please note the tags and avoid if it’s not for you.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar & Marcus Pierce, Lucifer Morningstar/Marcus Pierce, Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Mazikeen/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: Domestic Discipline Goes to the Devil [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575871
Comments: 12
Kudos: 88





	Lucifer Gets Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly… Yeah, more Lucifer whump from me (and a bit of Marcus Pierce whump too). For the record, even in my weirdshit head-canon, Lucifer isn’t soley a bottom/sub… However, those are the bits I want to write about, and I’m afraid I just indulge myself way too far these days. You know what to expect! That said, Lucifer is very much in control in this fic, which is more than can be said for my two multi-chapter Piercifer WIPs... *evil cackles* Oh, and I promise I'll update my Amenadiel/Lucifer fic in the next few days!
> 
> Secondly, I self-plagiarized a small part of this fic from a previously published work (not in fandom.) It’s pretty much unrecognizable here, as I reworked it extensively, but in the highly unlikely circumstances somebody notices a) Thanks for reading me (again), you are a superstar b) Don’t worry, I wrote the book and own the copyright ;)
> 
> Self-betad, so apologies any typos I’ve missed and I hope you enjoy :)

“I’m here.” Pierce stepped out of the penthouse elevator, shoulders slumped and his hands tucked in his pockets. “This better be _better_ than good, Lucifer. I’m getting bored of this.”

Pierce was almost as sick of getting killed by Lucifer as he was of living in general. This would be the fifth night in the row he’d submitted to Lucifer’s increasingly creative attempts at slaughter. Tonight, however, the voicemail had been notable for its lack of smutty innuendo, suggesting instead they “try something completely different. A change of pace. You might even enjoy it.”

Enjoy it? Pierce doubted it. He’d never been a fan of receiving pain, although as he surveyed the scene before him, his interest spiked—in the trouser department, at any rate. Lucifer was reclining on the leather couch, looking goddamn edible in a pair of silk boxers and a red dressing gown that hung open to reveal swathes of eminently lick-able, lithely muscled torso.

“Hello, Marcus. Delighted you could make it.” Lucifer smiled dashingly at him; Pierce gritted his teeth. Perhaps above all, he was sick of the fact that he _wasn’t_ sick of Lucifer Morningstar. He actually _missed_ being married the bastard, though he’d too much self-respect ever to let Lucifer know. He wanted to screw the son-of-a-bitch through that over-priced leather couch, here and now. He wanted to _hurt_ Lucifer again, make him squirm and—

Pierce severed that line of thought, because he was getting uncomfortably hard. “Cut to the chase,” he said. “And please don’t tell me you’ve managed to get your hands on a bear to eat me. Or a tiger. Or a tank of goddamn sharks—”

“I’m not a bond villain,” sniped Lucifer, “and I abhor cruelty to animals. Cruelty to deserving humans on the other hand…” He tented his fingers and arched a brow suggestively. “Anyhow, I’ve always been a fan of delegation, so given our recent lack of progress, I’ve invited along Maze. Hope you don’t mind?”

Only now did Pierce notice the demon, who leaned against the bar, toying with a disturbingly large and nobbly strap-on dildo. He must’ve missed her when he’d entered because she was lurking in the shadows. _Not_ because he’d clamped all his attention on Lucifer like a schoolkid with a crush.

She put down the dildo, and stalked toward Marcus, whose tension ratcheted up a notch. He now spotted that there was more than the usual amount of her kinky paraphernalia distributed around the place. Clamps, tongs and blades littered the plush seats and shiny surfaces of the penthouse. Chains and manacles zig-zagged from the ceiling like industrial strength Christmas decorations.

A crafty smile played on Maze’s lips. She seemed pleased to see him. This was getting scary, although as she pulled out a curving hell-forged blade, he rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you guys. Those don’t work on me.”

"No, but they hurt," said Maze, twisting the point of the blade against the tip of her disturbingly dainty finger; she’d gotten close, right in his space. Pierce edged a step back. "I've heard you like hurting people. Or, should I say… you like hurting Lucifer."

Pierce glanced toward Lucifer, who was sipping his liquor, enjoying the show. Well, if Lucifer couldn’t be bothered to get involved tonight, then Pierce was out of here. He threw up his hands in surrender. “Yeah, Maze, so I hurt your boss. Or whatever weird-shit relationship you two have these days.” He rounded on Lucifer. “But _you_ have a masochistic streak as long as your dick. _I_ indulged you!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” drawled Lucifer, “and very indulgent you were too.”

Pierce sighed. Yeah, he’d got off on being rough. He’d known he was pushing his luck when he’d ignored Lucifer’s pleas to stop flogging him. But he’d only dallied with the boundaries of consent. Besides, Lucifer was immortal, and Pierce had genuinely hoped Lucifer understood. Life was dreary. Heck, he’d gotten to the stage where even sex was dreary. His own pain was beyond dreary. He didn’t enjoy that Lucifer was, at least usually, stronger than him, and when Lucifer submitted to him… yeah, well, Pierce got his kicks where he could. Having Lucifer _sort of_ at his mercy gave him something that Ella Lopez would undoubtedly describe as “warm fuzzy feelings.” It was odd.

He feigned a snort of disgust, and spiralled back to Maze, who was now skimming her tongue along the flat of her blade in an obscenely provocative manner. Shit, the last thing Pierce wanted was to start finding her hot too. He fucking hated LA! Or was it just the ridiculously sexy company that Lucifer Morningstar kept…

“Unless you've got a better idea than licking your knives at me,” he said, “I'm going to call a rain check."

"Oh, we've got a better idea," said Maze, hooking her knife away at her hip and placing a hand on his chest. Alarm bells chimed in Pierce’s head. Another part of him whispered, _Go with it? What’ve you got to lose?_ Maze was strong, shoving him back toward a concrete strut, until he was braced against it, beneath some ancient-looking carving. And a pair of sturdy manacles. Moving quicker than a trained police-office, she grabbed one of his arms and had Pierce’s right wrist cuffed above his head before his spinning senses caught up with him.

As she shackled his left arm, it struck him like a sledgehammer. What did he have to lose? His dignity, that’s what! He heaved at his restraints, finding them worryingly secure. Maze, meanwhile, was busy unbuttoning his shirt, her polished nails skimming his bare flesh. Pierce was increasingly _un_ -turned on by her and by the whole situation.

“Gnnng! Let me go. I hate being tied up.”

After centuries of submitting his body to the indignity of death, of course he did. He glared at Lucifer, who regarded proceedings with a detached interest.

“Hating it? Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Lucifer casually levered himself up and sauntered over. “Let’s see if we can make you a little more comfortable, and if you’re still grumpy-bags, we’ll just get on with some more murder-y fun. Or if it’s all really awful, you can go home now. What do you say?”

Pierce bared his teeth in a snarl. Nevertheless, his defiance wasn’t heartfelt, and he discovered he’d no wish to articulate the refusal Lucifer had requested—possibly because Lucifer had shrugged off his robe and stood inches away, wearing just his boxers. From the appreciative gaze he raked down Pierce’s body, he was enjoying the sight of Pierce as much as Pierce relished the sight of him.

Maze, meanwhile, had finished unbuttoning Pierce’s shirt, and now turned attention to his flies. Pierce had to admit there was _something_ about the way she touched him, a combination of clinical indifference and skill, that was… yes, it was enticing… heck, it was arousing. She worked her fingers lower and lower, freeing his cock from buttons and fabric, tugging down his trousers so they hugged about his thighs.

“Oh, you really are having a terrible time,” grinned Lucifer, as Pierce’s semi bobbed free. Maze stepped aside and Lucifer dropped to his knees. His surely-created-to-suck-cock lips glistened inches from Pierce’s moistening tip. Lucifer’s long slender fingers stroked at his inner thighs, his hot breath urging Pierce toward a full erection.

Pierce let out a deep, nervy laugh. "Okay, I admit, I’m started to like this.”

"Good," said Lucifer. "Then just lie back, relax and enjoy." 

Finally, Lucifer slid his mouth over the head of Pierce’s shaft, and it was excruciatingly, predictably, _incredible_. Lucifer sucked cock like a true pro, the slip of his lips and tongue like molten satin. Agh! The sensations swept Pierce away, although he’d a faint awareness that he was grinning like an idiot.

How couldn’t he be, when Lucifer Morningstar was on his knees, cheeks hollowed and eyes screwed tight. Lucifer’s long dark lashes brushed his pale, sculpted cheekbones, brow furrowed with concentration, as he gave head as if his existence depended on it. He looked for all the world like the slut he was… The hottest slut who ever lived, devoting himself purely to the pleasure of Marcus Pierce. Pierce’s only faint frustration was that his hands were tied. He wanted to grab a handful of Lucifer’s hair, yank it brutally, and force Lucifer to take him to the hilt. Instead, he jerked his hips forward, groaning as he struck the soft, undulating flesh of Lucifer’s throat.

Lucifer, expertly controlling his gag-reflex, carried on the fine work. His busy tongue honed in on every too-sensitive sweet spot, igniting an itch of need in Pierce that veered between bliss and agony. The chafe of Lucifer’s stubble against Pierce’s balls as he drew him deeper was just too much. Shit… Pierce was going to come embarrassingly soon. He drew down his eyelids, veiling the sight of Lucifer, wishing to stay on this plateau of ecstasy as long as he could. Though he _was_ looking forward to pumping Lucifer’s smug mouth brim-full of—

“Shit! What the… ?”

The moist velvet of Lucifer’s mouth was gone, replaced by a constricting sensation so weird and unfamiliar that he didn't know what was being done to him. Pierce simply gaped as Maze imparted her torture, slipping a thick gold ring so far up his cock that it became half-concealed in wiry hair. He felt his member spasm, the cold metal tight about its root leaving him aroused, yearning for stimulation—and for so much more.

And so much more was given, although it wasn't quite what he was after. Maze met the blazing question in his eyes with a knowing smirk, and the next instant, she clamped a cage around his prick, constructed of a series of interlocking rings. The unfeeling metal bars pressed over his pulsing shaft, binding him snugly.

“I… shit.. what?” Articulate words failed Pierce.

"Comfy?” Lucifer smoothed his shining, wet lips. As for Maze, Pierce had never seen her look so happy, as she buckled leather straps around Pierce’s butt, keeping the infernal device in place. As she withdrew her touch, he bucked his hips, a futile attempt to see if it was possible to build any friction at all against his tightly harnessed cock.

"No! I’m not “comfy”! This is fucking torture!"

"We’re not sorry about that." Maze rose and took a step back, admiring her work. “You didn’t just _hurt_ Lucifer, Caine. You crossed a _boundary_. And he can’t get revenge by hurting you, can he? After all, you let him try to kill you. Daily. So, he asked me to come up with a more creative brand of punishment.”

“Okay, okay. Message received.” Pierce gasped a lungful of air. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, his chest, and, worst of all, his bound and glaringly erect cock. “I admit. I got off on hurting Lucifer. Yeah, _really_ hurting Lucifer. I knew Decker was near. I kind of expected her to check in on us. The belt was out of order, and I’m a sadistic bastard! What do you expect from the world’s first murderer? Just let me go.”

Maze wrinkled her nose. “Nah. Not yet. I think you need to suffer a little more.” She swivelled her gaze onto Lucifer, sliding her hand to the curving blade tucked in her belt. “I believe you _both_ do.”

“Oh, we do.” Lucifer’s voice was rough with need. “I was very naughty too. Asking the nasty man to do those things to me. Letting him take when he wanted… I’ve been a very bad devil.”

“Yeah, I know. When you need that kind of shit—" Maze skimmed the tip of her hell-forged blade in a meandering curve near Lucifer’s heart. Pierce detected a faint scratch of scarlet, and Lucifer hissed sharply as celestial alabaster split apart. “You come to _me,_ Lucifer. Comprende?”

Maze stretched up her bare arm, put a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder and shoved him down onto his knees again. This left Pierce with the visual torture of having a shirtless Lucifer bowed in front of Maze, who now took a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back so she could scrape the tip of her knife beneath his chin, tilting his face up. Lucifer still looked more a horny, contended devil than a grovelling, regretful devil, which would have pissed Pierce off.

It clearly pissed of Maze, because she backhanded him hard, sending him sprawling back on his haunches. For an instant Pierce believed she was going to slash his face with the blade, but Lucifer was far too vain for that to be in the rules. He was pretty sure Maze, despite appearances, knew the rules. Probably helped set them.

As Lucifer reeled from the blow, fingering a cheek blazing scarlet, Maze lifted one stilettoed heel to his chest, pressing him down. She pinned him onto his back before moving forward to straddle him.

Pierce flinched away. He didn't want to be this aroused. The tight ring trapped the blood in his prick, the cords that bound it keeping him agonizingly hard, and it wasn’t fair! Lucifer clearly liked being hurt. If Pierce hadn’t screwed things up, if he’d not played it so damned cool, maybe he could’ve been the one doing the hurting today. He loathed Lucifer more than ever because some mad part of him wanted their connection to be _real_. He needed them to have more in common than hating his Dad and both eternally taking the blame for shit that wasn’t their faults…

Pierce refused to look. He didn’t _have_ to look. He supposed Maze had taken pity on him, because torture devices existed that could’ve kept him facing their way, or robbed from him the liberty to even close his eyes. He couldn’t stop hearing though. The rustle of clothes being removed and adjusted, the buzz of a zipper opening… the slice of a demon-blade against angelic flesh. Although, he probably couldn’t hear _that_. His imagination tormented him too.

Lucifer cried out, as fraught as Pierce felt. Pierce, unable to stop himself, looked back and all but choked on the display before him. Lucifer lay flat on the floor, limbs splayed, untethered, willingly at the mercy of the demon riding him. Mercifully, Lucifer’s discarded robe was piled in front of where their bodies joined. Pierce couldn’t tell if Maze had slid onto Lucifer’s length or if she sodomized him with a strap on—maybe that nobbled monstrosity she’d been playing with earlier?

The bloody mess she’d made of his beautiful chest was as obvious as it was disturbing, and she timed the gyrations of her hips in synch with the slashes of her blade. Lucifer writhed, his cries becoming broken sobs. She stopped cutting him, then leaned forward, tracing the cuts, cleaning up her mess with her tongue, pausing to bite down, making him yelp.

Fuck, was she sucking his blood? Pierce clonked his head back against the concrete strut, and screamed, loud and hoarse. He wasn’t in to blood play and vampirism. This… Wasn’t… Hot.

Shit. Yes it was. Because Maze was hurting Lucifer. _Gnnnnnng!_ And he needed to get this device off his cock because he’d never needed to come more in all his very long life… preferably buried deep in Lucifer’s tight butt.

Maze littered her bloody kisses up Lucifer’s torso, working hungrily up his throat before finally claiming his mouth. Pierce tried to console himself with how clinical it seemed; she was so methodical, restrained almost, and Lucifer let her set the rhythm. Pierce tried to tell himself that Lucifer had at least pretended to struggle more when they’d been together, had somehow been more into it, which… Well, he was sure that was good, but it was hard to focus on why right now.

Maze reared up, squeezed her hand about Lucifer’s throat, began bucking like a rodeo rider, and then, with a scream…

Pierce took pity on himself and closed his eyes again. No way was he going to watch either of these immortal bitches come.

***

By the time Maze freed Pierce’s arms from his bondage, Lucifer’s chest looked more or less healed, save some faint lines in the pattern of… It looked like a smiley devil emoji. Pierce decided it couldn’t be, because he’d dealt with way too many mindfucks already this evening. Perhaps Maze wasn’t so clinical after all. Lucifer reclined on the couch, sipping yet another whisky, every inch of him a hot mess. His jet-black hair stuck out at eclectic angles and his boxers were slung low beneath his hipbones, displaying way too much taut and tantalizing midriff.

Pierce wanted to punch his lights out. Then throttle him. Then fuck him senseless.

Instead, he groaned with relief as Maze finally removed the cage from his now-soft dick, rubbed his sore wrists, and then yanked up his trousers to cover himself.

“You will both regret this,” he muttered, more to maintain his own dignity than because he meant it.

“Oh, come on, Lieutenant,” said Lucifer, gleefully offended. “I had to punish you, but I couldn't punish you with pain, could I? I sawed your arms and head off on _request_ the other day! So, as she explained, I consulted my resident expert, and seeing as you clearly love hurting me, she decided a little denial might be in order. Also, nobody hurts me like Maze.”

“It’s true,” said Maze, arms folded and self-satisfied. “I bet you were shit, Pierce.”

Something inside Pierce snapped. He lunged forward and grabbed Lucifer’s throat, surprised he made it, and already braced to feel Maze’s blade plunge between his shoulder blades. But Lucifer’s sharp gaze darted beyond him, doubtless a command for Maze to back off.

“This isn’t over.” Pierce revelled in the unexpected moment, the feel of Lucifer’s pulse quivering beneath his grip. He squeezed a little harder. Oh, how he wished it was Decker, not Maze, who’d made up their threesome tonight… He hated that Lucifer was indulging him right now, letting him do this. He wanted their connection to be real, and he wanted to push Lucifer’s boundaries much, much further.

He needed to _break_ Lucifer…

“I never said I wanted it to be over,” breathed Lucifer, sincere and sly all at once. It drove Pierce all the madder, because he was _gratefu_ l Lucifer was goading him… Grateful that Lucifer still cared whether Pierce was hungry for him or not.

Gently, slowly, Lucifer pried Pierce’s hand off him. “Now get out of here, before Maze eviscerates you. Or I decide I’m not in the mood for your sadistic shit anymore and _I_ eviscerate you.”

“You’ve tried that,” pointed out Pierce. “You can’t do it, Lucifer. Admit defeat.”

“Not yet.” Lucifer shrugged. “Anyhow, it’s a good job I haven’t killed you, if we’re going to have sex again. I prefer to leave the gay necrophilia to ducks.”

Pierce snorted with laughter; Lucifer grinned. Maze threw up her hands questioningly, “What?”

“Ducks,” said Pierce. Maze hadn’t been on earth long enough to see the animal kingdom at its worst; he was surprised Lucifer had. “They’re evil little shits,” he explained. “Enjoy gangbanging dead family members, that sort of thing. Almost as bad as humans. Have you tried looking a duck in the eyes? Scary.”

“I thought they were cute!” said Maze, then added hastily. “That’s what Trixie told me. I don’t I think anything is cute.”

“Apart from devil emojis?” asked Pierce, pulling a mocking face at Maze, which she returned with interest. He stalked off toward the exit, glad to turn his back and adjust his aching man-parts inside his trousers.

“See you tomorrow,” called Lucifer cheerily, as the elevator doors closed.

Pierce pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off the start of a headache. That’d been… Ugh, far from the worst night of his life, but one of the more excruciating. At least sex with Lucifer was on the cards again… but what he really wanted?

Pierce didn’t know quite what he wanted to do to Lucifer next. Whatever it was, he’d a feeling they’d _both_ bare the scars.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


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